Page 140 of Love Notes & Lifelines
My body heats as anger rises in my chest. “I’ve always noticed her,” I say through clenched teeth.
His look burns the side of my head, but I stare straight ahead. I’m not in the mood to prove anything to him, but the words fall from my lips like a confession.
“I noticed her on the street first, outside that princess bar. I didn’t want to. I’d wanted to go home, but that purple dress of hers caught my eye, and I haven’t been able to look away since. She smells like apples, and she replaces my chocolates everyone pretends they don’t steal. I always knew when it was her who dropped off my coffee because she would place it so the handle of the mug was at a forty-five-degree angle. I know her handwriting—memorized the swirls and loops connecting cursive letters with print. It’s pretty, and conflicted—like her.”
Finally, I turn in my chair to face him. “And that’s just a few of the things Inoticedbefore I needed her.”
“What made you fall in love with her?”
“What kind of question is that?” I bark before standing and resting my elbows on the railing of the deck.
He silently joins me a second later.
“It’s the way my body trusted her before my mind did,” I say. “It’s how she did things to make everyone around her better, but never asked for credit. And how she never knows how perfect she is. It’s all of her, Elijah. It’s hard to pick one thing because with Stella, it’s a million pieces that she believes are broken, but truthfully, they fit my broken bits like a beautiful life-sized puzzle. She makes me whole.”
He nods and uses the blanket to dab at the corner of his eye.
We stand in silence together as my mind replays the events of last night. I’m only half paying attention when he lifts his phone to his ear.
“I need a favor,” he says.
I tilt my head to the left and glare at him.
“Yes, I’m very well aware of what time it is, Lottie, but I’m with Beck, and you’re the only one who can help.”
I lift a brow in his direction, and he smiles, places his hand over the phone, and whispers, “Remember what I said about love languages, Beck. Our girl needs you, and she needs to feel needed right now, and she’s too afraid of breaking the rules not to answer a hotline call, so let’s reroute your number again and let her know how much she’s neededandwanted.”
Lottie’s voice is high-pitched as he puts the phone back to his ear. “I’m well aware that you’re not running a matchmaking company, but really, it’s starting to work out that way. Now here’s what we need from you.”
“Where’s Stella?”
Turning away from the wall of windows, I find Emmy rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.
“Hey, lovebug. Are you okay? You didn’t nap for very long.” I crouch down and open my arms, a sense of calm washing over me as she runs on little legs into my embrace.
Her hair is mussed with sleep, and she smells like innocence.
“Stella was sad.” Her words make my stomach hollow out with guilt. “Mommy was sad like that too.”
The breath stalls in my lungs. “Why do you say that, lovebug? What made Mommy sad?”
“Dani.”
The one word makes me flinch, and I stand quickly with her in my arms. The little blue book she carries with her everywhere falls to the floor with a thud, and I freeze with her dangling from my arms as I take in the illustration on the open page.
It shows a child’s room that opens to the stars. My body reacts to it as if it’s a rattlesnake about to strike. Sweat dots my hairline and I can’t get enough air.
I know this drawing. I know this book. I think I made this book.
“Mommy,” Emmy whines, reaching for it, and I glance from her back to the open page. There are two kids in the illustration who look too much like Cally and me to be coincidence. We lay in a fort made of pillows, and a memory blinks into consciousness.
Cally and I on the third floor, counting stars.
Grabbing the book, I stand upright. Emmy grabs for it, but I hold it open to this page and scrutinize every detail. It’s the words that cause me to shake and almost crumble to the ground.
The stars shine brightly with the hopes and dreams of children.
“E—Elijah,” I call. My voice is hoarse, and Emmy rests her head on my shoulder with open palms, so I hand her back her book.
